


次元 王位 ||| Argentine Sun |||

by ChocolateCarnival



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Adult!Sasuke, Alternate Universe - Canon, Biting, Dark Eroticism, Established couple, Fluff and Angst, God!Indra, Intersex Sasuke, Inversion of Naruto Plot, M/M, Marriage, Mpreg, No Uchiha Massacre, One-Shot, Sky God Decending to Earth, Smut, Somewhat Topping From the Bottom, Symbolic Elements, Uchiha Clan Culture, Uchiha Clan-centric, plot heavy, 次元 王位 - Jigen Oi - Dimensional Throne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29339961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateCarnival/pseuds/ChocolateCarnival
Summary: ‘Samsara, Samsara, Samsara. Heaven’s enkindling eye. Like the gears of
        fate turning, it grinds and spins…eternally cycling, spiralling,
        gyrating, weaving lifetimes encompassed in war, in conflict, in death.’It had been six years since the end of the Fourth Great Shinobi War, six
    years since Uchiha Sasuke was both cursed by fate and blessed by the gods.
    With a single, loving, treasure born in his life; he was finally turning
    the same age as his beloved brother when he died.It was a certainly a welcome surprise when he was granted a night away from
    duty and strife to stay by his husband’s side.
Relationships: Ootsutsuki Indra & Uchiha Sasuke, Ootsutsuki Indra/Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	次元 王位 ||| Argentine Sun |||

**Author's Note:**

> Hehe! Another one of my dreams has come true! I've ALWAYS wanted to write a fic for this obscure pairing! I absolutely adore them together and it was a joy writing this! 
> 
> I don't want to give too much away for my Honeys, so I'm not going to say much more. Only, that I always wished Indra's role in the series was much more detailed and developed than it was. Plus, I adore playing with godly elements. 
> 
> A strict warning, there is an intersex character in this story. If that makes you uncomfortable, when a male is able to vaginal sex, PLEASE don't read. I wanted to explore something new I never tried before. 
> 
> Other than that, I'll leave it to my honeys.

नक्षत्रजा 

Samsara, Samsara, Samsara. Heaven’s enkindling eye. Like the gears of fate turning, it grinds and spins…eternally cycling, spiralling, gyrating, weaving lifetimes encompassed in war, in conflict, in death. There was no defying its encumbering grasp, no breaking the shades of its nebulous sway. Once it came, the Uchiha’s once exploding Neutron Star collapsed like a supernova in the centre of a battlefield. 

The spiralling wheel, _heartless and unaffected_ , cycled again. 

In the Godaime Hokage’s place, the Rokudaime rose as a blessed shade of his brother’s shining brilliance. In sentience to that morning’s multihued dawn, the world seemed to rekindle itself in the shadows of an Argentine throne. For six years Uchiha Sasuke ruled, six years since he was nothing but an uncertain jōnin himself. 

Mournfully, the thirty-year-old finally reached the same age as Itachi when he died. Fitting then, that the sorrow in his breast be reflected by the obsessive gloom darkening Konohagakura’s astringent skyline. He was openly met with the crying whispers of the dead, his frame defied and solitary in the centre of the village’s vast graveyard as time seemed to anchor itself in unreality. 

Mismatched onyx-violet eyes were absently observing the spire of storms sparking to life in the morn’s slowly fading aurora. _Grey._ The world was sometimes grey and lifeless without his brother’s guiding light by his side. Regardless of Sasuke having surpassed his elder in discipline and strength many years ago, he still felt vastly inferior to the man who stood before him to lead the village through years of peace before the Fourth Great Shinobi War. 

It was a tragedy then that the Godaime Hokage, a pacifist, died on the battlefield. The Uchiha Heir at the time had been mercilessly cut down in a war waged by the dying dregs of Senju seeking to reclaim the throne of the _Rikud_ _ō_ _Sennin_. As Konoha’s Jōnin Commander and his brother’s right hand, Sasuke had no choice but to shield the remains of the allied forces with a hurried battlefield transplant of Itachi’s eyes. 

After a brief foray into death himself, Sasuke was brought back to life with a newly awakened Rinnegan and the blessed chakra of a god. Uzushiogakura’s last loyal Uzumaki, the Kyūbi Jinchūriki seeking revenge for his Uncle’s elimination of his Clan many years ago; was much the same. 

The battlefield promoted Hokage and young Uzukage had been marked as the transmigration of the Sage of Six Path’s beloved sons. The ancient being, worn and tired from years trapped in a dimension situated between life and death, had no qualms about splitting the remains of his power between them and passing it on to the next generation. 

Naruto had been told he beheld the mind and heart of Ōtsutsuki Ashura, Hagoromo’s most beloved second son. And Sasuke, destined to claim the Hokage title by succeeding his brother, beheld the lineal inheritance of the shinobi god’s more powerful firstborn. 

The numerous graves that had been dug in order to obtain their victory in the end, numbered in the thousands. It was a miracle the Five Elemental Nations’ prized shinobi forces were not entirely eliminated during the apocalyptic three-day battle. It was no surprise the world’s maps had to be redrawn and contoured for _years_ afterward, the lingering memory of the Godaime Hokage’s last moments still permanently stitched behind apathetic Uchiha eyes. 

Sasuke was both humbled and pained by the sacrifices his Clan made, Mother and Father having been laid to rest not long after Itachi died. The both of them had succumbed to heartbreak and wounds sustained in an attempt to control the Jūbi. It was a curse visited on the Uchiha as claimed by some, perhaps even _punishment_ for the new Hokage walking around with the power of god in his left eye. 

But most likely, they speculated, it was the child Sasuke bore — exactly nine months after the war — whilst refusing to disclose the boy’s Seed Father when ordered. No one wanted to believe the newly succeeded Head of the Uchiha Clan and Hokage would submit to the enemy. Still, they clung to any possible means of grasping control over the power he held—. 

_Anything_ to cling to malicious gossip and hatred like the humans they were. 

As a result, Uchiha Arjuna was never fully accepted as the Last of his family mainline. He was deemed illegitimate by the Village and only accepted by the Uchiha Clan themselves as Sasuke’s Heir. The young five-year-old was blissfully unaware of the complex politics and pain embroiled in his Bearer Father’s everyday life, a fact that would stay that way too if the thirty-year-old had anything to say about it. 

Sasuke would not stand for anyone harming the only bit of joy and light he had left in his life. 

Dragging fingerless-gloves through a curtain of chin-length black bangs, feral Uchiha strands carefully concealed the power in Sasuke’s left eye. The Uchiha Patrairch was bowing forward in quiet introspection, proud shoulders shaking momentarily with strained emotion as he beseeched the gods to protect his child and grant his brother peaceful rest. 

“Rokudaime-sama.” A voice interrupted, abruptly straightening the former Jōnin Commander’s bowed spine as a familiar flare of chakra invaded his senses. The Hokage said nothing as the lead of his ANBU guard, Tanuki, kneeled a respectful distance away from Itachi’s grave. The only acknowledgement the man received was a minute tilt to the Rokudaime’s head. 

“The Village Council has requested a meeting at noon to discuss Iwa trade agreements and next month’s summer festival. I believe Jōnin Kakashi’s team returned at four this morning, their missive from the Uzukage has been marked critical.” Sure enough, one of Sasuke’s personal summons were wheeling impatiently in the desolate graveyard sky above. The morning gloom made it somewhat difficult to discern, yet the feathered hawk had been trained to be silent and unassuming even when seeking his attention. 

Listening intently to the sound of swiftly descending wings, Sasuke held up a clothed forearm for his messenger as he offered a brief frown the moment the sparrowhawk landed. Sharp talons, trained specifically not to rip the fabric of his Master’s clothes; skittered affectionately over the man’s shoulder before the tercel settled by the Rokudaime’s left ear. 

The deadly beak was tugging affectionately at the long bangs it found there, settling for butting the Uchiha’s temple until Sasuke relieved him of his cargo. 

“Hn.” An amused grin was his only answer, chakra infused fingertips shattering the annoying Dobe’s personal seal as a single onyx orb absently scanned the contents with a tired, morning, languidness. He felt uncharacteristically drained by the past few weeks, the wrinkle in the corner of mismatched eyes more pronounced than usual as his lips curled in a frown of displeasure. 

He was not in the mood for Naruto’s immature rambling wishing him a happy birthday by abusing his authority over seals. 

“Anything else, Tanuki?” The Rokudaime hummed, a silent pet to his summon’s head dismissing it in a puff of smoke. It seemed the day was starting earlier than Sasuke would have liked, an absent palm straightening the vivid red and onyx cloak draped over his shoulder as he connected the furred gold haori-himo meant to secure fluttering black fabric. 

A free-standing lapel caressed his nose the moment he tilted his head to the side, triangle-shaped Hokage hat suspended low on a steel-clipped obi cinched around his waist as a quiet sigh parted peony-pale lips. The dark shinobi pants and matching short-sleeved turtleneck shirt, perfectly accentuated the silhouette of his looming hundred-and-eighty-two-centimetre frame. 

There were two formfitting arm covers reaching from his wrist to his bicep, a flash of pale skin alluding to the bare skin he wore beneath instead of protective under armour. Not that Sasuke needed the protection, he mused. He was one of the strongest two shinobi currently alive, never mind the fact that he had a god of chaos for his spouse. 

“Master Arjuna has awoken, Sir.” Tanuki murmured after a moment. “He’s asking for you.” Nodding absently, the thirty-year-old found himself running out of patience that morning as he held out his left hand to summon a heavy flare of chakra. The resulting swirls of wind blew long black bangs away from his curtained left eye, a glowing violet orb blinking indolently as he materialized a black _shakuj_ _ō_ in the palm of his hand. 

He wasn’t prepared to waste any more time out here. 

The black crescent that dissected the top of the tall staff was an allusion to the perfected yin-yang release he achieved several years ago. A distinct fissure divided the air before the current Uchiha Patrairch, the Rokudaime Hokage stepping through the newly revealed dimension as he ignored the subtle curse of his ANBU guard desperately calling after his disappearance. 

They _hated_ when he travelled by portal, especially since he had the ability to appear in whichever dimension, direction or place he so chose. 

Sasuke smirked as the elite Uchiha guard, charged with assuring Arjuna’s safety in their private home; startled violently at his abrupt appearance in the kitchen. The Hokage’s formerly stoic features were teasing his younger cousin for his lapse in concentration, a lazy quirk to his brow skittering a flush over Uchiha Izanagi’s nose as Sasuke absentmindedly dispersed his chakra _shakuj_ _ō_ before stepping deeper into the house. 

He loved keeping Obito’s ANBU team on its toes, especially considering they protected Arjuna when Sasuke wasn’t there. The single father needed them to be prepared for any and every eventuality, Sharingan, Byakugan, Mangekyō…Chakra activated and all—. 

Ignoring a questioning glance from Shisui peeking in from the window without his ANBU mask, Sasuke kept his steps quiet but detectable enough for others to hear as he ascended the stairs to the second floor bedroom he left not too long ago himself. 

He was approaching the open fusuma doors stoically, a stray shoulder coming to rest against the wooden frame for a moment as he observed his painfully shy son glare surprisingly menacingly at Obito’s daughter attempting to coax him out of bed and dressed for the day. 

The ever-excitable girl was sharing an array of funny anecdotes about her time in the academy, regardless of the young Uchiha clearly bearing no interest in her words. At least she was well versed in laying out clothes and plans for irritable children not wanting to get up. 

The littlest Uchiha only brightened when he noticed a familiar figure looming against his doorframe, a loving smile directed at the dark-haired man as he shuffled away from Mae’s far too oppressive attention. For all Arjuna was concerned, his Papa hung the moon and all the stars in the universe just for him. 

He vanished from his futon in the blink of an eye, tiny frame employing a burst of speed only granted to predominant lightning-based chakra affinities. Burying his nose against the side of Sasuke’s hip, the little one encircled the Hokage’s legs in a warm, childlike, embrace. 

The five-year-old was still too young to reach Papa’s waist just yet, even when he never felt inferior or judged for the slightness in his frame. The Rokudaime was kneeling down gracefully to smother his child in a loving embrace, curling strong arms around delicate shoulders as he buried his nose in the messy strands atop Arjuna’s head. 

“Morning, little bunny. Did you sleep well?” The single father enquired, shooing his son’s minder out of the room before she could protest. He was quietly breathing in the wintersweet and heavenly stardust scent clinging to his son’s frame. He definitely inherited it from his Seed Father, although Arjuna sported rich raven-dark locks he could only have gotten from Sasuke. 

The delicate curve of his son’s wide, upturned, eyes and nobly shortened brows belonged solely to the Ōtsutsuki. 

Tracing a delicate thumb beneath the permanent turquoise line drawn beneath each of Arjuna’s lower eyelids, Sasuke pressed an affectionate kiss to the centre of a smooth forehead. The godly kohl imprint and noble bearing were all _Indra_ , the Hokage’s fingerless-gloves coming up to ruffle feral black tresses before he went through the motions of fetching his mother’s heirloom comb and delicately brushing the tangles from Arjuna’s waist-length tresses. 

Indra hadn’t wanted Sasuke to cut Arjuna’s hair since he was born, stating that the Bearer never indulged him in growing out his own hair. Their son never seemed to mind the maintenance or time it took to keep it that long however, always knowing when his father was coming to visit simply by the way Papa breathed a little easier or employed a unique pattern in tying his hair. 

If the Rokudaime was left carefully reselecting the clothes Mae picked that morning too, choosing to include a zip-up, high-collared, white Uchiha tunic with six black magatama sown into the neckline, Arjuna _knew_ Chichi-ue was visiting. 

He could barely contain his excitement, smiling brightly as Papa pulled his hair in a high ponytail and braided the two chin-length bangs at the side of his head with white ribbon. 

“Can I come to work with you today?” Arjuna asked. “It’s the full moon.” Keeping still as his father helped him dress further, the five-year-old obediently lifted his legs as the elder Uchiha pulled black shinobi shorts over his hips and settled his sandals on his feet. 

There was a noncommittal ‘Hn’ answering his precocious question, the quiet sigh alerting Arjuna to the fact that his Bearer was giving in. 

“If you don’t complain.” Sasuke ordered, a genuine flash of amusement illuminating mismatched heterochromic eyes as the Hokage tied a thick black sash around his son’s waist. He was doing that on purpose to tease a pout of dissatisfaction across Arjuna’s lips, amusement flashing across formerly stoic features as he warned the little Uchiha to be on his best behaviour. 

Taking a small hand in his, Sasuke straightened once more before he led them towards the kitchen for a quick breakfast. The grey skies outside seemed to have lightened with Arjuna’s mood, the mismatched colours bleeding brilliant gold across the horizon as the thirty-year-old discreetly informed Shisui of his impending babysitting gig at the office that day. 

The older ANBU seemed to be the only person Arjuna actively listened to beside his father, most likely because Shisui was the closest thing Sasuke had left to true family. For now though, the elder Uchiha had no choice but to nod minutely as he left to gather the boy’s toys and jutsu scrolls. 

It would be an unusual day again with the Hokage’s son sitting quietly beside his father’s desk and playing without a sound. An increasingly familiar sight as the boy grew, Shisui mused. Arjuna definitely possessed the dignity and bearing of their Clan, his emotions and expressions somewhat contained unless he was in the presence of those he trusted. 

* * * * 

The façade of a bloodied moon was rising enchantingly on the late-afternoon horizon, the looming Hokage Tower bathed in a multihued starlight array of soundless colour and light. Manifesting himself in the reverberation of a cloudless thunderstrike, the Ōtsutsuki god of tempestuous lighting and storms levitated unseen in the havens above Konohagakura no Sato. 

The sky this side of the world was _his_ domain, Ōtsutsuki Indra closing fearsome black eyes as he stretched his senses in search of his beloved Malinya  [1]  . The trace of Sasuke’s chakra was always easier to find in a cacophony of human dullness, its dark violet blackness and eerie ozone scent standing out amongst the more subdued of its counterparts. 

The almost protective twine of otherworldly light that encased his power from harm was a result of their little Marici  [2]  unconsciously shielding his Papa from curios beings in search of strong Bearers. Not that they would ever succeed in claiming the current Uchiha Patrairch, Indra frowned. The ancestor of the Uchiha Clan had marked Sasuke as his husband the first moment their souls twined. 

Though it had sadly been in the middle of a war, in a place of not-quite-death; the transmigrated origin of their bond had shackled the both of them to Samsara’s ever revolving fate. They were one in the same, also not _quite_. Their shared existence had been intimately coiled even before Indra ascended godhood many millennia ago. 

Their purpose together was only revealed when Hagoromo split his power with the reincarnation of his two sons. 

They were the originators of the world’s next balancers. 

Ashura bore the Uzukage a set of twin daughters after the war, just as Indra seeded a son with the Hokage. Their Deva children were destined to bring peace and harmony to these war-torn lands, a struggle that had been fought for millennia since their grandmother’s unholy trespass on the cosmic fabric of time. 

Either way, Indra adored his husband and child. He would never permit any form of harm to come to them, regardless of the human plane not always being stable enough to carry the effects of his presence. Ōtsutsuki Indra was known as a god of chaos and destruction, he didn’t have the physical means to bring peace and protection to these lands. 

His natural power was tempered, after all, by sowing devastation and disaster wherever he went. 

It was only Arjuna’s hidden instinct to protect his father and the village he ruled that allowed the deity the ability to visit them every full moon. A small smile was kissing the corner of formerly stoic lips, the umber-haired god tugging playfully on the golden line of fate encircling his beloved’s heart. 

As it was, in the slowly sinking dusk, only Sasuke’s Rinnegan, Arjuna’s deified eyes and two Mangekyō awakened Uchiha had the ability to perceive Indra’s presence in the sky. The perception of a red moon rising in the sunlit sky to signal his arrival, was only ever truly acknowledged by the Sharingan bearers of the Uchiha Clan. 

Konoha’s only surviving founding clan was the only humans currently aware of who Arjuna’s Seed Father was, probably because centuries of study and belief in the gods produced a better understanding of the divine than those captivated by the more liberal Will of Fire inherited through the years. 

There was a reason Sasuke’s marriage to a deity was kept quiet, it would produce too much confusion and upheaval should non-believers start questioning his sanity and position in the village. It was also a constant struggle against the Council of Elders, Indra recalled. Especially since the closeminded ancients believed no Hokage should produce a child without marriage. 

It was a wonder Sasuke had not shattered under all the pressure these last few years, he frowned. It was certainly a play in politics he had no will to interfere in. Or rather, Indra had been forbidden from putting his godly hands in. _Sasuke_ had, under no uncertain terms, prohibited him from expressing his rightful wrath over every power-hungry female they attempted to foist on the other half of his soul. 

_“Sakeru **[3]** ,” _ He whispered, imposing black eyes blinking open at a distinct flare of chakra as the sky rent itself asunder at his command. Nine Gudōdama were swirling in a dancing spiral behind his back, thigh-length dark hair dancing animatedly in the wind as black tengu-geta passed through the inside of a dark portal. 

The space-time passage was a gift he passed on to his beloved too, the tug of gravity guiding him downwards as Indra appeared in the centre of a large, circular, office. 

He was floating weightlessly several centimetres off the ground, black _tasuki **[4]** _ sashes keeping long white sleeves from dancing in the physical manifestation of his chakra as the multihued heavens darkened considerably outside. Ōtsutsuki Indra was the god of deluge and lightning, his mere presence enough to summon a heavy tempest across the formerly tranquil skies. 

_“Tadaima,”_ He greeted quietly, a strained frown unwilling to show the degree of strict self-discipline it took to contain his power from affecting the universe around him much further. 

A pair of familiar onyx eyes instantly snapped in his direction, the gentle tap of his geta landing on the floor enough to announce his arrival as the adorable sight of his son, seated regally in his father’s office chair, with an overlarge red and white Hokage perched atop his head; smiled in sheer delight at his abrupt appearance. 

“Chichi-ue! _Okaeri!”_ Came the buoyant cry, a black and white blur flying unheeded in his direction as the Uchiha ancestor barely had enough time to settle himself on his haunches before a tiny body collided violently with his chest. The titillating sensation of human warm skin wound lovingly around his neck, a soft wintersweet and starlight scent assaulting his senses just as much as Sasuke’s unique lighting-striking-stone heaviness tickled his senses. 

Little Arjuna definitely inherited the haunting alure from his Bearer, Indra tightening his hold on one of his two most precious treasures as he smiled openly into the feral black strands slipping from the tie atop his son’s head. It was startling to see just how much Arjuna took after him when he was younger, the similarities only truly broken by the sweeter disposition Sasuke possessed as a child. 

“I missed you.” Arjuna whispered mournfully against the side of his father’s neck, childlike fingers tugging curiously at the long thigh-length strands of Otou-sama’s umber-gold hair before he reached curious fingers over the older man’s shoulder to grasp at a Gudōdama hovering enchantingly behind the god’s back. 

The instant curious fingers stalled mere millimetres from their target, a natural static phenomenon sucked a tiny lightning bolt from Arjuna’s turquoise-coloured nails before a violent and deafening thunderclap echoed less than a yard from the Hokage Tower. The resulting series of lightning strikes that followed, seemed to shake the very foundations of the village. 

“I-I’m sorry!” A quiet whimper implored, wide black eyes staring at Indra in guilty contrition as the ancient god pulled the ball of power from its close proximity to his son’s grasp. Even though he had been told many times not to touch those when they were in the village, his childlike curiosity always got the better of him. 

“Don’t touch those, Marici. I don’t think Papa would be happy if we accidentally destroyed his village.” The Uchiha ancestor mused, chakra reeling instinctively to draw the brewing thunderstorm back up into the pregnant clouds as he leaned forward to press his forehead against Arjuna’s in a calming caress. 

“That’s right, little bunny. Chichi-ue isn’t here for training today. He’s here to eat dinner with us.” A frowning baritone said from the other side of the office threshold, the haunting sway of the Hokage cloak fluttering around black-clad calves as the current Uchiha Head led himself towards his desk with an armful of unsigned trade scrolls and mission reports. 

His senses were finetuned to the ageless deity’s eyes following his every move, stoic features morphing in a gentle smile as Indra ruffled their son’s messy bangs before leaning over to collect the Hokage hat Arjuna dropped in his haste to reach his father. 

_“I’m home, Sasuke.”_ He whispered in godly tongue, watching with quiet satisfaction as the strain in his beloved’s only visible eye softened significantly. It was enough to allow a genuine smile to kiss peony soft lips, their fingers touching momentarily as Indra handed the Hokage his hat and moved as close to his beloved as the thirty-year-old would allow. 

_“You grow more beautiful every time I lay my eyes on you.”_

_“Okaeri,_ my love.” The Hokage snorted softly, choosing to leave the comment unanswered as he allowed indigo-painted nails to trace the slight dusting of pink the words chased across his cheek. Indra was specifically paying attention to the slightly more pronounced wrinkle drawn in the corner of his beloved’s eye, a frown of concern creasing the god’s youthful features as he turned his back to the world outside the panoramic office window. 

“Trouble sleeping?” 

“Ah.” Sasuke replied. “Not that it’s important. I trust your passage here was safe?” Nodding absently at the query, Indra had to fight back a surge of animalistic instinct screaming at him to draw the Rokudaime in his arms and refuse to let go until they were both calmer and more settled. 

“Would you like me to visit your dreams?” The very air seemed to vibrate with electrified static, pale noses brushing briefly in affection as Indra leaned forward to place a chaste kiss to his husband’s lips. His Sasuke still tasted of lightning and fire, the crisp spring waters of the Konoha mountain ranges enlivening his chakra as the mahogany ash of their Clan burst across his senses with sensuous promise. 

It had been a while since they had a moment to linger in indulgence like this, Indra surprised when he noticed Sasuke reach for Arjuna and pull the boy against his legs. He was cupping their son’s ears with his palms before levelling the lightning deity with a mock glare. 

“And wake up every morning with semen-stained sheets like a teenager? Do you want me to relive my puberty, Indra? Shisui would laugh his ass off.” The god grinned at the accurate description of exactly what would happen should he be allowed to visit his Malinya’s dreams more than he already did. He was smiling in delight when a single onyx eye lidded in fierce irritation. 

“Thank you for the offer, Anata. But I’ll be fine. You’ll hear me calling to you if I need you.” The Hokage was dragging a gentle thumb across his husband’s bottom lip, their exotic indigo hue a reflection of the same kohl lines drawn beneath the god’s lower eyelids. Startling slightly when a tiny hand tugged impatiently at the front of his cloak, Sasuke chuckled softly when he noticed the almighty frown furrowing his son’s noble brows. 

“Alright. No more playing.” Sasuke smiled, a near imperceptible flare of his chakra alerting the ANBU to his imminent desire to leave. 

“I’ve already alerted Shikamaru that we’ll be out tonight and Shisui was nice enough to book a nice Ryokan for us.” There wasn’t much more to say, Arjuna clambering in his Bearer’s arms as they headed towards the centre of the ever-expanding commercial district. 

* * * * 

The intimate banquet hall of the Ajisai Ryokan was blissfully tranquil, beautifully aesthetic shoji doors thrown open to showcase the private Japanese garden drenched in soft rainfall outside. The traditional flower arrangements were dyed various bright summer shades, the mid-July humidity stifling a slow dying dusk as heavy rain clouds parted intermittently to allow cruor moonbeam to caress the world from above. 

It was approaching midnight. 

The Rokudaime Hokage was languidly leaning back on his palms, three empty _tokkuri_ situated in the centre of the table amongst a series of dishes they savoured over the past few hours. Arjuna was sleeping peacefully against his Seed Father’s thigh, the deity’s impossibly regal frame illuminated in the soft, undulating, light. 

Heavy chocolate strands, intermittently sprinkled with filaments of gold; gathered in an inky pool on the tatami floor behind Indra. The soft lantern-lit night accentuating the magatama-embroidered kimono folded over his shoulders, form-fitting turtleneck shirt and shinobi pants beneath woven with a cosmic chakra so different to the old councilmen and women Sasuke had to deal with for most of the day. 

It was almost a relief, he mused. 

The council didn’t give a fuck that it was his birthday today, they didn’t even have the decency to give him the day off as he had been planning for months. No, instead they cited trivial arguments that could have waited months before being addressed by any of them. It was not the first, nor the last, that they questioned his authority in the village. 

The rate they were going though, the Uchiha wondered ruefully just how his brother managed to survive their incessant meddling. The thirty-year-old Hokage could only pay his respects to Shikamaru and Shisui for arranging this small celebration without his knowledge. 

They must have known he desperately needed a break from his duties. 

“Thank you for coming, Anata.” Sasuke said quietly, limbs loose and blissfully content as the deity across from him nodded understandingly whilst sipping the last of his _sake_ from a beautifully glazed _sakazuki_ cup.The curl of a saliva-wet tongue was salaciously teasing the deity’s upper lip, Indra happily savouring the heady remnants of the alcohol’s unique, high-quality, flavour. 

There was nothing the god enjoyed more than having his husband and child by his side. The taste of excellent alcohol and company only enhanced the experience. The Ōtsutsuki could already see a delicate flush gracing his Malinya’s nose, the Uchiha Patriarch no likely comfortably warm and relaxed from his own enjoyment. 

Those hauntingly noble features were observing the serene rainfall outside, regal beauty soft and tranquil in profile. 

Neither adult were willing to break the comfortable silence with pointless chatter, time seeming to stretch into infinity within nature’s natural quiet as a notable spark of expectation flicked the thirty-year-old’s only visible onyx orb in his husband’s direction. Indra was intimately aware just _what_ emotion yearned so boldly in his beloved’s gaze, an amused smirk gracing the corner of azure lips as the god of storms nonchalantly set his empty _sake_ vessel aside. 

He was carefully gathering their son against his side, Arjuna not even stirring at the abrupt weightlessness settling him in Chichi-ue’s arms, the feral black strands on the boy’s hair merely rolling a warm forehead on Indra’s shoulder before he sunk deeper in blissful unconsciousness. 

“Shall we retire for the evening, my Love?” The thunderstorm god purred; words threaded with _heat_ and _promise_ as the long-haired deity watched his husband incline an unamused brow in his direction before rising gracefully to his feet. The scarlet interior of his Hokage cloak swayed evocatively with his every move, elegant fingertips lifting playfully to peony-pink lips before the Uchiha peeled fingerless black gloves from his hands in a flash of feral teeth. 

“Ah.” The Uchiha Patrairch grinned, tracing the heat darkening his husband’s eyes to a three tamoe bewheeled-carmine. He was hooking his gloves in a steel-clip obi, laying them next to the Hokage hat suspended on his belt with languid fingertips. He was tired of merely observing his husband undressing him with his eyes. Indra was deliberately ratcheting up the tension in the room between them, electing to do nothing but _watch_ the growing need roiling off Sasuke’s skin like a storm. 

It had been a while since they last had a moment to themselves that wasn’t in his mindscape, Sasuke mused. His body was practically _aching_ with the need to have the man inside him, a light sheen of sweat glistening like dewdrops on pale skin as the Rokudaime struggled to reel back the dizzying heat slowly but surely scorching the depths of his veins. 

He was obediently following Indra’s footsteps towards the private suite Shikamaru booked for the night, a set of gold painted _fusuma_ clacking open to display a ten-tatami room with two separate niches created inside. Sasuke could only breathe a sigh of relief at the obvious division. 

The village was unaware he was married. They merely assumed he was a single father raising his son by himself, as such it would make sense for them to offer him a room for the night with only one futon. But then again, his two advisors always thought of everything when it came to little details like these. 

The Uchiha was somewhat bemused at the momentary flash of disappointment he would have expressed if things didn’t turn out the way they did. Sasuke didn’t know what he would have done if he couldn’t, at least, lose himself in the long-awaited intimacy between him and his spouse. 

“Indra.” He breathed impatiently, a quiet warning belaying the god’s name as a single onyx orb gazed intently at the open _fusuma_ to Arjuna’s room that had yet to be closed. The boy’s Seed Father was taking his sweet time tucking the little one in. He was deliberately playing on Sasuke’s nerves, the Hokage thought. Even as he eventually withdrew with an affectionate kiss to their son’s forehead and closed the room dividers with a quiet click. 

If things went the way they usually did when the two found themselves alone, Sasuke didn’t want to risk waking the little five-year-old to a sight he was _far_ too young to contemplate—. 

“Eager, aren’t we?” The Ōtsutsuki chuckled, easily picking up on his husband’s rousing pique as he crossed his arms over his chest. Over the next few milliseconds, he used a series of one-handed seals to cast a barrier over the entire suite. The one-way silencing jutsu flashed blinding white over their son’s separate niche, the muffled reverberation weaving and dancing erratically before settling on scandalously thin walls. 

If there was one thing Indra knew well, it was that Uchiha Sasuke may love representing himself as an apathetic individual unaffected by the rest of the world. Yet, isolated and captive to his celestial husband’s every whim; he was impossibly weak to pleasure. In other words, the Rokudaime Hokage was shamelessly _loud._

An instinctive biter, also. 

Refusing to uncross the arms over his chest, the thirty-year-old rose a challenging brow in Indra’s direction as he cocked his hip impatiently. It was a habit he retained since his childhood; a precocious stance rarely seen outside those he trusted the most. The only problem was, Sasuke learned to use it as a provocative taunt against his beloved. 

He was stalking into the deity’s personal space with a predatory grace, coming to halt directly in front of a beautifully lithe frame as he used his six-centimetre advantage in height to tip the god’s head in his direction. 

“Don’t complain.” Practically consuming Indra’s triumphant smirk with his lips, Sasuke growled impatiently as the instantaneous unification of their soul and chakra raced like fireworks sparks down his spine. His knees felt unfairly weak, a supportive arm coming up to curl in the hollow of his back as a sweetly-scented stardust and wisteria breath misted the air between them. 

“Hn,” Indra grinned against petal lips, unphased by his Sasuke’s abrupt attack as he fisted indigo-painted fingertips in his beloved’s blissfully soft hair. He was using his grip to guide Sasuke’s head to the side, the sinful peak of a pink tongue sweeping across peony lips as he twined their bodies infinitely closer. 

The Ōtsutsuki didn’t relent, shivering in anticipation as the towering pillar of strength in the circle of his arms simply _yielded_. 

The room creaked and groaned beneath the flash of Indra’s responding chakra, a stifling heaviness choking the very air from the atmosphere as a frenetic blitzkrieg accentuated the dance of their warring tongues. The two shinobi gods were indulging in a delectable saliva-slick slide, the otherworldly scrape of their dual lightning natures twining and twisting with every, passing, second. 

The celestial god hummed contentedly, refusing to offer Sasuke submission as a fierce dominance crackled like storm across moonlit pale skin. A single step materializing their twined forms at the end a traditional futon, the beautifully embroidered dark blue and gold comforter flimmering in the dim lantern light as dark eyes absently traced the spread of fragrant tatami beneath their feet. 

Indra had little patience for his darling husband’s teasing hands tugging the main tie from his hair, indigo-painted fingernails practically tearing the haori-himo closing Sasuke’s Hokage cloak over his chest before discarding the red flame and black fabric in a pool on the floor. 

The haunting carmine genesis of his bloodline limit activated in the depths of haunting black eyes, the Uchiha Ancestor intent on capturing the rousing sight of his husband – dazed and breathless – pulling back to catch his breath. He was dressed now in nothing but a skin-tight sleeve-less black turtleneck, silky arm covers reaching from his writs to pale biceps and tight black pants conforming sensually to trim hips. 

His body was practically vibrating with arousal, the aged line drawn from the corner of the Hokage’s visible right eye only adding to the silky fall of dense raven bangs and delectable peony-hued lips. He was gasping erratically for breath, the peak of a pink tongue sliding along the corner of pale lips to snap the delicate string of saliva still connecting their tongues. 

“Don’t just stand there and stare, bastard.” The Hokage hissed, gracefully descending to his knees on the soft futon before gripping the deity by the black obi wound around his waist. “It’s been weeks since we last touched. Don’t make me wait.” He was pulling the ancient being on top of him, nimble fingertips raking demandingly through a dense mass of thigh-length umber tresses. 

If Sasuke had enough to sense to think or even _breathe_ , he would be utterly mortified by his body’s overwhelmingly rapid response. They had barely touched throughout the past few hours, merely sharing a heated silence in anticipation over the head of their five-year-old son. Yet, here the Uchiha was, half-hard and aching with the delicate Bearer folds between his thighs already _wet_ with need. 

It had been strange growing up with a cunt as a child, even in the infamous Uchiha Clan where the birth of intersex children was often experienced once a generation in the main family line. Yet, after he lost his virginity to a god whilst simultaneously suspended between life and death in the middle of a battlefield, Sasuke would never again bare his soul to anyone but his husband. 

He could still recall the pleasured-pain of their initial joining, the heaven-shaking _heat_ that scorched his skin and rapturous cries shaking the very fabric of the universe—. It was the catalyst that unlocked a god’s power in Sasuke’s veins, Gudōdama dancing powerfully behind Indra’s back as the release of the deity’s essence gave control of his power back to their shared soul. 

If there was one thing to admire about Uchiha blood, it was their monogamous ability to love only a single person their entire life. Even whilst the hatred and madness of their harshly evolving bloodline was not always sealed, Sasuke would never allow himself, or Indra, to seek pleasure from another. The current Patrairch and Thunderstorm God fit together like pieces of a celestial puzzle; their bodies, souls, minds and stars all perfectly aligned. 

“Drifting so deviously. I thought you wanted something, Sasuke.” Indra teased, brushing the curtain of black hair away from his husband’s left eye to gaze upon his unique Samsara eye. 

“Stay with me now.” 

“I thought you were going to give it to me?” The Patriarch retorted, smirking provocatively as Indra kneeled between his thighs. An expert hand was slipping beneath the skin-tight fabric of his shirt, indigo-painted nails deliberately tracing the sensual dip of Sasuke’s spine as he pushed the shivering Rokudaime onto his back. 

_“Fuck!”_ The effect was almost instantaneous, Sasuke bowing in a sensual arch as heaving breaths stuttered helplessly in his chest. If there was an erogenous zone he enjoyed more than most, it was his husband’s nails outlining the vertebrae of his spine and hips. The fact that Indra was simultaneously tugging on his earlobe with nipping teeth, only spiralled his natural headiness higher. 

Sasuke was unable to control the answering moan building low in the back of his throat, shaking fingers fumbling with the steel-clip obi cinched around his waist as an undulating coil in the pit of his stomach spun ever tighter. He was impatiently pulling the belt from beneath himself, discarding it mindlessly to the side before shimmying his shoulders to slip the form-fitting turtleneck over his head. 

Indra was right, Sasuke was impatient. _Anything_ to feel those electric fingertips travelling simultaneously higher and lower on his sides, outlining the path he wanted the god’s lips to follow as knowing fingertips undid the button of his shinobi pants and eased them languidly down his thighs. 

“Hn.” The Bearer grunted absently, bowing his head to the side in order to break himself free from Indra’s hold before sinking aching teeth into the side of his husband’s neck. Sasuke felt an animalistic wave of satisfaction breaking across his senses like no other, a surprised hiss electrifying a skitter of lightning across his veins as godlike fingers dug answering bruises into his left thigh. 

“Sasuke—” Indra warned. 

“As if you aren’t impatient yourself.” Shifting his hips to feel the prominent bulge scraping deliciously against his own, restless fingertips unwound the _kaku-obi_ from the Ancient’s hips as he parted magatama-inscribed fabric aside. It was always a chore getting the deity out of his clothes, he mused. Especially when Indra didn’t like fucking without them. 

“No. On your knees, Malinya.” Indra purred, mercilessly spinning his beloved around so his cheek was pressed against the futon and the delectable curve of his ass suspended itself in the air. He was groaning in appreciation at the sight, drinking in the sheer eroticism of tight black pants only dragged half-way down Sasuke’s thighs and a sensual spine flaring out to accentuate naturally feminine hips. 

His descendent was absolutely breathtaking in the dimly lit lantern light, filaments of spinel-gold reflecting off of starlit pale skin as raven-stratos hair splayed in feathery strands across expensive silk. Not only that, but his husband was completely exposed like this. 

The soft pink lips situated below Sasuke’s hardened flesh was dripping diamond-like droplets down parted thighs, the god’s deadly carmine eyes naturally drawn towards the delicately swollen slit he knew was hidden beneath. 

It was simply begging for his touch, Indra bowing forward to press a chaste kiss to the dimples just above his beloved’s ass. He was reaching his palm around Sasuke’s waist to curl around sensitive glans, the delirious hardness throbbing erratically in his grasp as he could no longer control his own response. 

Indra was lapping eagerly at the dripping honeyed-sweetness, tracing tourmaline droplets to its petal-like genesis just to lavish in his Malinya’s answering cry. Sasuke was wailing his name, hips undulating wantonly into the touch as a slick tongue prodded the aching slit clenching so desperately for his cock. 

_Fuck,_ the man was simply beautiful. His scent, chakra…very _soul_ made the god dizzy. 

“I-Indra! No—.” The Hokage trailed off, shaking his head in denial the moment the deity attempted to part the folds with indigo-tipped fingers and stretch his no-likely vice-tight insides. He was reaching a demanding hand behind him, gripping onto a curtain of thick, thigh-length, umber strands dancing across his back to pull the god closer. 

“You don’t get to tease me tonight. I want you _inside._ Right. Now.” 

“Sasuke—.” 

The Rokudaime wasn’t going to take no for an answer, spreading his thighs to better accommodate the Uchiha Ancestor as he turned a violet-ringed orb demandingly over his left shoulder. He waited _so_ long to feel the physical stretch of his husband inside him, consuming his soul from the inside so _wholly_ that even the prospect of pain and discomfort was unable to sway his clenching need. 

Glimpsing the lustful Mangekyō spiralling in Indra’s eyes however, only called to his impatience more. The thunderstorm deity, it seemed, didn’t want to wait either. 

The rustle of cotton and silk being pushed aside was like a tongue of flame tracing the curve of Sasuke’s spine, a shiver of anticipation building low in the centre of his abdomen as a warning palm rested possessively over the back of his neck. It was merely a precaution to keep him in still, panting breaths spilling from peony-pink lips as the Bearer’s inner walls clenched empathetically around nothing. 

The sheer sensation of those feral, thigh-length, strands tumbling forward to trace his spine whilst enclosing them in a world of their own, was enough to draw a shaky growl from the back of his throat. He couldn’t take much more of this before exploding. 

“Pardon my haste, then. I won’t retain much control after this.” Came the cultured response, the thirty-year-old quivering needily at the tip of an erection sliding sensually through the folds of his cunt. A sly head was bumping tellingly against the sensitive base of his erection, too. Sasuke instinctively clenched his eyes at the touch, biting teeth settling heavily on his bottom lip before a knowing hand walked sensually up each and every of his vertebrae. 

“Breathe, Malinya.” The Vedic god encouraged and Sasuke did, a low guttural moan exploding from his throat as a slow, sensual, slide pierced him inch for delectable inch. Oh _kami_ , the heady circumference and indescribable length stretching him open was just as he remembered. 

It clawed blunt nails across soft covers in a desperate bid to ground himself, his entire soul shuddering around the aching intrusion as a series of small, insignificant, orgasms electrified his senses even more. The initial penetration was always incredibly intense, the Hokage unable to control himself as his mind fogged with a spiralling endorphin high. 

The strangled cry it forced from his lips only alluded to the hips he swayed impatiently against his husband’s thighs. 

_“M-Move, Indra!_ I-I can’t—.” Sasuke panted, shivering at the intensifying hypersensitivity encircling the deepest depths of himself. Fully seated inside him, a heady spike of pain let him know the Ancient was situated greedily against the opening of his cervix. He had always wondered if one could die from experiencing sex with a god…it always left him losing himself so completely he could barely anchor his consciousness in reality—. 

The thirty-year-old couldn’t _think_ , he couldn’t _breathe_ …he could only submit himself to the slowly unleashing storm as Indra chuckled in strain above him before rearing back suddenly and, testing the tightness and stretch of his inner walls; thrust in with abandon. 

“So tight, my love.” He groaned. “So hot, so needy…you’re practically devouring me from the inside.” The god strained, seeming just as breathless and needy as his Uchiha spouse as he pressed an array of open-mouthed kisses and bites against his beloved’s bare shoulders. 

The delirious arousal was rising like a tide from the Hokage’s skin, soft black strands curling at the base of the man’s neck as it stuck to a quickly forming sheen of sweat settling like a veil around them. Nothing could interfere in the intensity they carved for themselves in that moment, the rhythmic dance of carnal sin twining familiar limbs and a vastly spanning eternity entangling their souls. 

Indra was having trouble holding himself back, instinctively aware of the overwhelming chakra building within as he abandoned slow and sensual for a satisfying rhythm punctuated by every needy cry accompanying his jerking thrusts. It was like the unravelling of the cosmos at his fingertips, the sheer bliss an aching, rapturous, needy _thing_ that burned with the flames of the sun, storms of the sea and whisper sweet moonbeam delights—. 

The more they lost themselves…the more dangerous it became. 

Yet, that danger was as enticing and addicting as laying one’s very soul bare before the one they loved. There was nothing but themselves on display, Sasuke forcing himself on his knees so that he could press himself back-to-chest with the thunderstorm deity. His cries were rising in pitch and frequency the higher his pleasure rose, his mind nearly fracturing as he threw his head back against Indra’s shoulder. 

“P-please!” It was _so_ good, his mind spinning at every jerking thrust as he bowed desperately into biting teeth the moment they sunk into the side of his neck and indigo-nailed fingertips curled knowingly around the head of his erection. 

“Let go, Sasuke.” 

“I-Indra—” Sasuke hissed, gripping his husband by the back of his neck so he could somewhat press their lips together over his shoulder. He was drowning in absolute bliss, nails digging into the god’s scalp to keep their tongues intwined as reality shattered in a swiftly unfurling genjutsu. 

_“Fuck!”_ It was too much, the heady coil spinning and gyrating in his stomach before it released so abruptly his entire body locked up. His insides were tightening impossibly around his beloved’s needy intrusions, the Hokage releasing a hoarse cry from the very depths of his soul as the universe abruptly disintegrated around him. 

It was like lightning electrified his every nerve, no _literally_ , lightning snapping from the Ancient’s barely restrained power to his—. 

“INDRA!” He howled, only an instinctive control of their shared element stopping the lightning strike from piercing his heart as he channelled it through the chakra point just below his stomach. It came as a sudden shock, the hair raising on the back of his neck as he shuddered under the prolonged thunder raining outside. 

_Shit!_ The last time that had happened, Indra had—. 

A warm splash of semen inside spiralled his surprise even higher, the shuddering orgasm still gripping his insides as Sasuke milked the god of every last pearly drop. He was panting erratically, unable to protest the gentleness in his husband’s grasp as a playing thumb teased the slit of his over-sensitive arousal before promptly laying them on the futon side by side. 

“Ōtsutsuki…did you just—.” Sasuke frowned incredulously, a protective hand resting over the still tingling clench of his womb as time to seemed to stall in realization. It was the first time the Hokage noted a flush of embarrassment crossing his husband’s cheeks, those stark blue lines beneath his eyes only brightening the vivid red in his gaze as he was greeted with a sheepish tilt to indigo lips. 

“Sorry. I lost control.” Indra was ridding himself of the outer layer of his clothes, the white kimono dropping in a pool on the floor as skin-tight black fabric, much like Sasuke’s under his cloak; clung to his evocative frame. 

The Rokudaime was observing the sight with half-lidded eyes, the impossible span of their lust barely sated as the Ancient eventually lowered himself to the futon and twined their limbs forehead to forehead. Sasuke couldn’t help but breathe in the crackling ozone spilling into the room and the gentle fingertips he used to tilt the deity’s lips against his for an affectionate kiss. 

“I hope it’s a girl this time.” Sasuke sighed in resignation. “That way, she can shave off some of your arrogance and pride.” He was smiling on the inside despite his apathetic features, utterly amused by the glint of worry entering his husband’s eyes as he rose a shaking thumb to trace the noble cut of dark brows and plump lips. 

“Now, I do hope you are not finished. We still have five hours before the night is over.” 

“You never know…conception isn’t always guaranteed the first time.” Indra laughed at the teasing words, providing absolutely no protest as Sasuke pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. The thirty-year-old was well aware that conception with gods worked differently. Yet, he had no desire to stop their night together simply because Indra was successful. 

He was quite willing to continue until the sun rose and tore his beloved away from the human realm. 

* * * * 

“What are doing out of bed, little Marici.” The Uchiha god inquired, sensitive hearing able to detect quiet feet pattering softly across traditional tatami mats. He was seated nonchalantly on the _engawa_ outside, a languid knee drawn to his chest as a pool of feral strands swayed evocatively down his back. Pristinely dressed in his folded sleeve kimono once more, the umber-haired deity struggled to withdraw the overwhelmingly heavy chakra leaking like poison from his skin. 

Haggard fallow bangs were brushing his cheek as he tilted his head to the side, wilfully ignoring the traditional shoji doors thrown open to display a magnificent storm curdling the sky. The last of the blood moon was setting across a black-mauvine horizon, the deep purple hue reminding him instinctively of his husband’s chakra. 

“I-Is Papa alright?” The little whimpered, never before having seen his Bearer so exhausted or deeply asleep before. The thirty-year-old was carelessly slumbering beneath haphazard futon covers, spread on his stomach and snoring softly in sated enjoyment. 

“Hn. Your Papa’s absolutely fine.” Indra assured, chuckling softly at the query as even he couldn’t help but trace the older Uchiha’s tall frame so obviously relaxed in indolence that he looked dead. 

“He’s just being dramatic.” Indra had dressed and bathed the Hokage not too long ago, his husband complaining and whining all the way that he could do it himself. He couldn’t—, he was practically unable to stand unaided. 

Yet, with the sun ascending the horizon and the power of Yin fading with the morning light, it was almost time for the Ōtsutsuki to return to _Takamagahara._ He could already feel the strain of the cosmos bowing and bending at his continued presence, a series of devastating storms spiralling to life in the depths of his flaring domain. 

It wouldn’t be long until he accidently caused a major disaster to sweep across Konohagakura. 

Beckoning the little five-year-old to his side, it wasn’t that unexpected that his son had been woken not long after he released the seal from the Ryokan’s thin walls. He himself had been shuffling around the suite for a while now, preparing bitter jasmine tea for when Sasuke woke and simply watching his beloved sleep with adoring eyes. 

“Sleep well, little one?” He hummed, ruffling gentle fingers through raven-soft waist-length strands. 

“Hn.” Came the noncommittal reply, sleep-heavy limbs clambering onto the Ancient’s lap as the two of them silently observed the drizzling rain descending in sudden sheets from the sky. Arjuna knew it was time for Chichi-ue to leave soon, his unique eyes could already track the fading Sharingan red withdrawing from the surface of the moon and the peculiar shift in nature chakra bending too much towards the god’s cosmic essence. 

Papa always said Chichi-ue couldn’t stay when the moon turned white. A law of nature they couldn’t defy. Even if Arjuna didn’t quite understand the reason his Seed Father was so different from anyone he ever came across before, he was proud and mature enough to not complain when he had to leave. 

Sniffling softly despite his determination, the Hokage’s son was somewhat appeased by the knowledge that Chichi-ue often visited him in his thoughts and dreams whenever he felt lonely. It was—. 

“You know I love you, right? You and Papa both.” 

Arjuna nodded shyly in response, leaning his forehead against Indra’s chest as indigo-painted fingertips traced the god-breath turquoise line drawn beneath his son’s lower eyelid. The tender touch always seemed to soothe the boy’s fiery chakra. It never mattered if it was Papa or Chichi-ue that did it. 

The Uchiha Heir had been conceived in the grasp of Amaterasu; Papa often reminisced. The magnificent black flame having sparked his existence in the elder’s stomach when he and Chichi-ue first met. Not that the heat ever bothered him, it felt warm and comfortable against his skin rather than painful. 

Only now did the boy pout when sly fingertips tugged at the bound bangs against the side of temple. His hair was a tangled mess of feral strands wilder and curlier than the Rokudaime’s own, the white ribbons Sasuke had woven in yesterday half-undone and tickling his chin. 

“I would prefer to stay with my two treasures forever.” The god lamented, pressing a soothing kiss to the boy’s curly hair as he secured his arms around Arjuna’s waist and hoisted himself to his feet. Silent footsteps were guiding them back inside the large suite, lanterns long since having burnt out as the smell of freshly brewed tea, soap and Papa’s lightning-striking-stone scent filled the recesses of the room. 

“I have to go now, Arjuna.” Indra reminded softly, bending down to place the little five-year-old on the bed beside his sleeping father. He was lifting the airy-summer sheets to shuffle the little one inside. Arjuna didn’t protest going from one parent to another, scrambling happily across soft silk and cotton until he could attempt to tuck himself against Papa’s side. 

“Make sure to look after Sasuke for me. He’s going to need you a lot more over the next few months. You’ll have to be strong and fierce.” The Rokudaime only stirred long enough to flip back on his side, his new sleeping posture instinctively welcoming the familiar weight of his son in his arms as a single onyx slid open to glare at the god’s words. 

“Indra.” Sasuke breathed warningly, having little will to offer a better explanation to his son’s now brewing curiosity as he buried his nose in a mass of raven-black curls. The Ōtsutsuki bowed forward to place a kiss to the top of husband’s head before he too was forced to withdraw, a sudden tempest echoing menacingly in the distance. 

Nine _Gud_ _ō_ _dama_ were spiralling to life behind the deity’s back, an elegant wink thrown in the Hokage’s direction one last time before the god made his way outside. He was heading directly for the centre of the descending storm, never getting wet or paying mind to the frenetic lightning strikes dancing evocatively across his skin. 

He flashed a teasing smirk in his beloved’s direction. 

_“I’ll see you in your dreams, beloved.”_ The taunt was meant for Sasuke’s ears only, an instantaneous pink flush spreading across the thirty-year-old’s nose as he breathed an exasperated sigh across the top of Arjuna’s head. 

_Really,_ the liberties he just allowed Indra to take! He’d never live Shisui’s teasing down if he _ever_ discovered just what it meant when the Hokage was forced to wash his sheets almost three times a week. He could only blame it on his son wetting the bed _so_ many times. 

If there was one thing Uchiha Sasuke learned throughout his marriage, it was that gods were sexually insatiable… whether in one’s dreams or reality. 

But then again, so was Sasuke. 

* * * * 

  


* * *

[1]  मालिन्य – Malinya: Sanskrit for Darkness 

[2]  मरीचि – Marici: Sanskrit of Ray of Light 

[3]  Sakeru (裂ける) – Rend 

[4]  Tasuki (襷) – A pair of sashes that loop over each shoulder and across the back, used for holding up kimono sleeves when working. 

नक्षत्रजा - Nakstraja - Starborn 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, my Honeys. It means the world to me! 
> 
> I would appreciate a tiny review to let me know if you enjoyed it, also any question/theories you may have about the plot I would be happy to discuss. Hehe, it certainly was an interesting piece to write. 
> 
> Chocolate Carnival


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